Chapter 1
HANNAH
I feel like I’m burning up. My body is almost bursting into flames, but since the heating is switched off and I don’t have malaria, something else must be causing the heat. Slowly, I regain a dreamy sort of consciousness; I'm not alone in the bed. The soft throbbing sensation coming from my loins wakes me up with sweet memories. River's naked body cautiously rolls off mine and, still half-dreaming, I feel his kiss on my lips. The mattress moves under me as he cautiously gets out of bed.
I open my eyes to blink listlessly, just to close them again immediately. The sunlight streaming in burns my eyes. I lazily turn to my side, pulling the blanket over my head. My woozy brain comes slowly back to reality.
As I clutch the corner of the blanket I feel something weirdly hard in my palm. I look down at my left hand, straining my eyes to see. A wide smile lights up my face as I spot the white gold ring with its round aquamarine diamond on my ring finger, and then the delicious memories of last night come rushing back to me. Oh my God! It really happened. I'm going to be a bride! A satisfied sigh escapes from my lips, and as my thoughts move to River, warm fuzzy feelings overwhelm me. I love him. He loves me. He is the only one who really knows me and knows how to deal with me.
Of course, our engagement was not a surprise. It was given. However, River did manage to surprise me with having everyone there. It had seemed like a cool, calm family dinner at summertime, the only difference being that Gran was unusually sentimental. I dare say I could see tears in her eyes. But I can’t be certain. Rose, my future mother-in-law, kept true to form. I seriously don’t know a more emotional person than her. I’m pretty sure she didn’t even try to restrain herself.
Although she didn’t hug me, she kissed River, like he’s still in kindergarten. Until the 6-foot, 3-inch little boy had enough of it and picked her up on his shoulder to twirl her around in the living room. She was screaming, and Rachel and I almost peed ourselves laughing. Finally, Ian saved his wife from his son's hands. It’s lovely to see him melt even after 25 years when Rose bats her big, violet cat-eyes at him. I can’t deny those eyes! And River can’t deny that they’re related. He wields that same penetrating, deep blue gaze like his mother’s.
What’s more, Rose made chocolate-caramel-walnut cupcake gateau. The official celebration dessert of the Hailey clan. I feel horribly honoured. Ian brought the Veramonte Merlot Reserva from the basement. This also speaks for itself. Of course, for his son – for this son – there’s nothing he wouldn’t do. He’s unbelievably proud of him. At least him!
In the end, Jamie didn’t come. Not that I care. It would only have been a problem, I’m sure. Of course River invited his twin and it hurt him that he wasn’t there, even if he didn’t say it out loud. Rose was disappointed too, but she was silent. She didn’t want another debate, didn’t want to enrage Ian. Ian and Jamie in the same place is like a spark to dynamite. When Jamie is present, disaster is always on the horizon. That’s why I said that I didn’t care that he didn’t come to the engagement party. Since Jamie doesn't live at home, he is only in contact with River and Rose.
In the end, the important thing is we held our engagement party without confrontation. River Hailey and Hannah Logan are now officially a team. I didn’t hesitate for a moment when he proposed. Somehow, I always knew he would be my husband. That it would be him.
I squeeze my ring-adorned hand to my chest and let myself daydream. I don’t feel like getting up yet, so I close my eyes and curl up in a ball under the covers. It’s Sunday, so I have nothing to do today. That is, I should do something, but I’m really not in the mood to pack boxes.
That suddenly reminds me of my friend Rachel. I have to call her! She was weird last night. She got a phone call, then left suspiciously early. I have to find out what happened!
I crawl out of bed with a deep sigh. Where the bloody hell is my mobile? I rummage aimlessly through my bag, dump its contents onto the dressing table, and spot it. An ’I love you” message from River and a missed call from last night. Jamie? What the hell? I quickly check the time of call. 19:06. We had already started the dinner then. I have no idea what he wanted. You never know with Jamie! He has never been normal! I mean… I know it's not nice saying that, especially about him. Asperger’s and everything. But he’s driving people crazy! My future brother-in-law is a complication, trouble, and a mountain of problems all in one person. I wonder what I should do, but it brings up unpleasant feelings. I decide to call Rachel instead.
“How is the bride-to-be?” She jokes.
“A bit hungover," I say bitterly.
“I see! Your wedding night was that crazy?”
I roll my eyes. I knew she wouldn’t let that one go. Rachel has known me since college. She knows how I work and that I’m not one to easily jump into bed, not even for River’s sake. He went through all the motions, so to speak, until we got here. The truth is that that particular thing actually happened the day before yesterday. We tasted each other before, but we did not go beyond a certain limit. The engagement was the watershed. I'm 22. And no. I do not regret waiting until now. I did not plan it specifically, it just happened that way.
“Are you still there?” Rachel’s shout pulls me back from my wandering thoughts.
“What wedding night, silly? It was just the engagement,” I retort deliberately.
“So you just don’t want to say that the hotshot left you all alone?"
“He has final exams on Monday.”
“Shit, Hannah! Come on! This guy has been disgustingly studious. Someone should really take the stick from up his arse to relax him a bit.”
“Shut up, Rach!” I grumble at her.
I know that River’s not her favourite, yet today she is in an especially sour mood. She thinks the guy is too perfect to be true. She always says there must be some big issue lying in wait because it’s impossible for someone to be so perfect. Of course, I know River is not perfect. But almost.
“You’re being unfair to him,” I shush my sulky friend.
“All right, forget it,” she murmurs. “Anyway, your ring is beautiful. Did you see Rose’s look when River put it on your finger? I thought we’d have to pick her up from the floor right there.
This remark reminds me of why I called her in the first place.
“What happened to you last night, Rach?” I ask, as I admire my engagement ring again.
“What do you mean?” She tries to distract me but I stay the course.
“You left pretty suddenly. Is there a problem?”
After a little silence, she reluctantly starts to talk.
“Problem? Why would there be? “
“You tell me!”
“Nothing. I got sleepy,” she responds curtly.
“At 9:30?”
“Hannah!” She lets out an annoyed sigh.
“I saw someone called you on the phone. Did that have anything to do with it?”
“Jamie called,” she mentions casually. "But that's besides the point. Anyway, I wanted to get the boxes ready for your stuff.”
“Jamie called you?” I ask, astounded.
“And what? Why would he not call me?” – She asks stolidly and I can almost see her shrug her shoulders and begin to twist her long blond hair around her forefinger.
"Well, I dunno. You two talk?” I raise my eyebrows, amazed.
“It happens. Sometimes.”
“And what did he want?” I persevere.
“Nothing special,” she huffs. “He just… asked about you and the engagement,” she answers reluctantly.
“What the…!”
“And he said wasn’t coming.”
“But River wanted him to be there. He was disappointed.” I sigh with resignation. “Typical Jamie. He doesn’t give a shit about anyone else.”
“Bullshit!" Rachel bursts out. “I think he just didn’t want to make a scene. You know what happens when he and Ian are together.”
“I know,” I surrender. “Do you really think that's why he didn’t come?”
“What do you think? He loves his brother and ... so they love each other.”
I take a deep breath. I know she’s right. River loves his twin brother. From a young age he was the one who always understood and protected him, despite all his weirdness and strangeness. River was his only friend in kindergarten. He stood by him when the kids from school ostracized Jamie because of his bizarre behaviour. He fought with the older kids when they mocked his awkward brother. Riv often got in trouble because of his twin brother but the teachers couldn’t do anything against him because he was an excellent student, and already a charmer. He always held his own even against their father. Then, after who knows which school hacking scandal, Ian finally threw away Jamie out of the house, River brought him the food that Rose secretly packed. And Jamie obviously admires his brother and looks up to him. They are not identical twins or anything, but still, they instinctively understand each other with almost no words. There is a special bond between them.
"Okay. You may be right. Anyway, he tried to call me too.”
"What? When?” She asks with an unusual curiosity.
“Before dinner, but I didn’t hear the ring. You know, I still don’t know what he wanted.” I shrug my shoulder.
Still with the phone in hand, I shuffle to my wardrobe and open it with a sigh. I run my free hand through countless clothes, and I think it's going to be an eternity before I'll get everything over to Rachel’s. I have a lot of duds. Much more than I would need, but that’s the thing: clothes are my work as well. I am a fashion designer after all! Since my friend is still stubbornly silent, I continue with my line of inquiry.
“I still don’t know why you left so early yesterday. It’s not just because you were terribly disappointed Jamie didn’t show up to the party after all?”
I was one hundred percent kidding with my stupid comment. I lay down on the bed and laugh at my own joke. Even if I try to be nice, I can’t imagine that anyone who knows Jamie Hailey's exhausting behaviour would miss his presence at any kind of party. Rachel knows him through and through, so I don’t understand why she’s not picking up on it and laughing with me. She’s really annoyed about something today! It’s better not to continue to irritate her, so I decide to hold off. She seems to be thinking the same thing, because she suddenly changes the topic.
“When should I go for you? Have you started packing at all?” She asks accusingly.
Defeated, I run my hands through my hair and get up from the bed. I take a look around the room – it looks like a battlefield.
“Of course. I'm doing fine,” I whimper, and Rachel's starts giggling.
“I can imagine, champion of brides. Or did you change your mind and still want to live with Gran?” She provokes.
“Not at all.” I shake my head and I really mean it.
I decided to leave my childhood room and move in with Rachel. Not that I don’t get along with Gran. We are pretty much on the same wavelength and I love her. I won't be far from her even now, it's just a few minutes from here to the new apartment. I felt it was time to stand on my own feet. Plus, it’s not at all inconvenient that the apartment is located on the first floor, right above our newly-opened boutique. So, I reduced my work commute to zero. I just go downstairs with Rachel and we've already arrived at our 9-to-5. Wonderful! Will I miss the morning rush hour, and the scramble in the underground and on the bus? Negative.
“All right. Then get yourself together, darling! In half an hour I’ll be there and I'm bringing a fresh supply of boxes.”
”Half an hour?” I cry out, making it clear to Rachel that I haven’t gotten anywhere.
#
I sigh, tired but satisfied, when the last box is finally in my new room. Of course, I still have to put everything away, but we did a lot of it today. Night fell before we made the trip between Gran’s house and the shop (my new home) five times in Rachel’s old school Mini Cooper. I love the green walls and the spacious square footage. This room is much larger than I’m used to. And the newest prized addition is the spacious wardrobe. River helped paint, not just here, but also down in the shop.
As a reward for our good work, Rachel and I pour ourselves a glass of red wine and fall into the chic little armchairs, which are normally for the customers, and proudly admire our new empire. We got a much cheaper rent on the corner of Covent Garden on Floral Street since we took the apartment above it in the package. Rachel was looking for an apartment anyway when we opened the shop, so it was the obvious solution. She has been unpacked for half a year and now I'm coming.
I admit I felt a huge lump in my throat when we turned around for the last time, and, looking back, I saw Gran standing on the doorstep. She did not cry. At least, not outwardly. I had no intention of doing it either, but I couldn’t make it completely without blubbering. I know we aren’t losing each other or anything, but still! This is a huge step for me. She raised me since I was eight. Right from the time that mom and dad died. Rather, almost exactly from then. Except for the horrific two-month period I spent at the Morgan’s before I could move in with her.
I shiver. I don’t even want to think about that time.
#
I get so sentimental when I look around the place, at the walls adorned with rustic bricks. The name of our own boutique proudly gleaming on the glass of the shop window: Rebellious. In the middle, on the precisely sized M mannequin, hangs my favourite bohemian wedding gown with the lace décolletage. I love it. The shop isn’t too big, but it was perfect from the beginning when Rachel and I first launched our adventure. I can still see in my mind Gran's face in awe at the opening. Look at yourself, Hannah Logan, she said so proudly. You have your fashion designer diploma in your hands. Your first collection is in the shop window and you just opened your own boutique. I am unbelievably proud of you, darling. And you can be proud of yourself, too. Your parents would be, too.
Well, I really am proud of the collection. Ultimately, it’s 95% my work. Rachel really just contributed a few suggestions. She is the manager and the businesswoman and I assumed the creative part. I won’t deny it: I damn enjoyed it. Much better than if I had spent the time with orders, bills, and business meetings. That’s why we complement each other so well. I create, she sells.
I was able rent the fashion store thanks to my inheritance I received from my parents’ legacy on my 21st birthday. What can I say? The news hit me like a ton of bricks. Neither Gran nor I had any idea of the exact amount. Turns out, it was six figures. If I wanted to be morbid, I would say that a girl should have at least some benefit from the fact that her wacky parents kicked the bucket too soon in an avalanche accident. It sounds sour? I’m not angry at them. Not anymore. After seven years of psychotherapy, quite a few thousand pounds, but mostly many years of care from River Hailey, I can safely say I’m not angry at my parents anymore. Thirteen years ago, for reasons beyond me, they participated in a mountain hike in the Swiss Alps where they were buried under an avalanche. I do not blame them because they died in an accident that could have been avoided, and I do not blame them either for what happened to me after their death while staying with my foster family.
Okay. Let’s say I’m still working on it, but I’m making progress. So, the inheritance. My father, after all, was not totally lacking in foresight, at least in terms of finances. The amount covered the cost of the store’s rent and then some. It covered the material supplies necessary for the collection and ensured that Rach and I could start out with somewhat realistic salaries. After ten months, we were basically breaking even. A year after the opening, our income is now beginning to exceed our expenditures. In a word: SUCCESS! I am aware that without capital it wouldn’t have been possible. At least, not so fast. We can call it an advantage bestowed on orphans and the abused, if you’d like. I don’t give a damn! That’s at least one privilege I deserve.
“To the new apartment and independence!” my friend and business partner raises her glass and winks at me playfully.
“To love and business success!” I answer ceremonially and take a big sip of wine.
Rachel giggles loudly.
“Girl, you're asking a bit too much. Those two don't usually go together.”
“But I insist on both,” I say sullenly and tap the side of my empty glass.
Rachel gets up and grabs the neck of the wine bottle to pour again.
“But if you had to choose, which would you prefer?” She persists. “Never-ending, overwhelming love or a spot in the Top 10 Forbes List of the year’s most successful young entrepreneurs?”
“Hmm,” I ponder to myself, but the answer is simple.
The sound of knocking comes from the front door, so both of us turn. Rachel rolls her eyes and my heart suddenly starts beating faster.
“You stay, I’ll let the overwhelming love in,” she proposes, since she’s already up.
The door opens and my sexy anthropologist-archaeologist pokes his endearingly handsome face over Rachel’s shoulder. His dark blonde locks fall across his forehead as he winks at me right from the doorway.
“What’s up, love? Are you gonna let me in or what?” He irks my friend in his usual way.
“Did you revise enough, hotshot? Be careful, because this level of intelligence is already bad for one’s health!”
“For whose health?”
“Asshole.”
“Don’t flatter me, blondie!”
I know Rachel hates being called blondie, but I intentionally do not intervene. I won’